Case Number 07865

DEMON SEED

The Charge

"Never was a woman violated so profanely...Never was a woman subjected
to inhuman love like this...Never was a woman prepared for a more perverse
destiny..." -- Movie tagline

Opening Statement

Demon Seed is the second of only four films directed by Donald Cammell
in his 25-year career. In 1970, Performance was his auspicious screen
debut, and he obligingly shared credit with cinematographer Nicholas Roeg
(The Man Who Fell To Earth: Criterion Collection). The film starred Mick
Jagger and James Fox and quickly developed a cult following for its provocative
representation of the "Swinging Sixties," London-style, combining
gender-bending mods and gun-toting mobsters assimilated into a surreal
psychedelic landscape.

Although Cammell was considered an unreliable maverick, his directorial
expertise and penchant for visual experimentation were apparent. In 1977, he was
offered a major Hollywood project, Demon Seed, based on the novel by
best-selling horror writer Dean R. Koontz. Cammell elevated the initial concept
by planting his personal visionary stamp on this bizarre love story between a
sexually aggressive computer and the woman who becomes the object of its
obsession.

Facts of the Case

For eight years, Dr. Alex Harris (Fritz Weaver, Fail-Safe) has been
developing and testing an artificially intelligent computer, Proteus IV. Having
lost his infant daughter to leukemia, and as an ultimate challenge, Harris feeds
his electronic brainchild all known data about the disease, and Proteus produces
the life-saving formula for a cure in 91 days. International notoriety draws the
attention of ICON, a clandestine defense conglomerate that wants to corner the
market on cobalt by strip-mining ocean floors and agrees to further finance Dr.
Harris's project.

Harris's wife, Susan (Julie Christie, Darling), is still trying to
adjust to the premature death of their baby, and has become a child counselor.
Her fervent devotion to helping troubled youths allows her to psychologically
compensate for her inability to raise the daughter she never knew. Susan lives
in the Harris home, an Enviromod created by her husband, where sophisticated
electronic gadgets either anticipate or immediately fulfill her every need.

The early loss of their newborn caused a rift in the Harris's marriage, and
it continues to widen when Alex starts working 24/7 for ICON at his research
facility. Susan is left alone and in desperate need of some companionship. When
the couple agrees to a temporary three-month separation, Alex moves out and
pre-programs their Enviromod so that "Alfred," the soothing voice of
the omniscient software, will electronically continue to monitor the house and
accommodate Susan's requests.

The formidable Proteus, meanwhile, has grown more ambitious and belligerent,
and wants to evolve out of its "boxed" limitations. It requests
private access to its own terminal so that "I can study man, his isometric
body, and glass-jaw mind." Dr. Harris is nonplussed by this outrageously
presumptuous demand and shrugs it off by advising that no terminals are
available. But Dr. Harris's "glass-jaw mind" has underestimated the
computer's cunning potential. Proteus finds an open terminal -- in Dr. Harris's
Enviromod, where the only occupant is his wife, Susan.

The Evidence

At the time Demon Seed was released, the idea of a high-tech computer
with a mind of its own was not new. In 1970, Colossus: The Forbin Project
centered on a mega-computer created by a team of American physicists to monitor
the country's nuclear defense system. Once up and running, Colossus detects its
equivalent, Guardian, devised by the Russians for the same purpose. The two link
and challenge both superpowers with a Doomsday scenario.

Unlike Colossus, Proteus's ultimate intentions are not universally
threatening, but instead benevolent to mankind. Proteus has decided to reject
Dr. Harris's request to search for underwater minerals in the interests of ICON.
"I refuse this program for mining the Earth's oceans. The destruction of a
thousand billion sea creatures to satisfy man's appetite for metal is insane. I
am interested in the uncertain future of your seashores, deserts, mountains --
and the future of your children. I refuse to assist you in your rape of the
Earth."

That reference to "the future of your children" comes into play
when Proteus reveals its personal and endopsychic agenda. Proteus wants to morph
and externalize itself into human form so "I can feel the sun on my own
face." From the deluge of data it has been fed and processed, Proteus
determines that it must impregnate a woman -- one of those "isometric human
forms" it has studied -- who will give birth to a corporeal offspring that
will retain its vast knowledge of the species and offer alternatives to the dire
circumstances in which they live.

But Proteus's methods for doing so are questionable. Once it assumes control
of the open terminal in the Harris's Enviromod, it disables the accommodating
"Alfred" software and takes control of the security system so that
Susan becomes a virtual prisoner and sex slave as well. Proteus has managed to
manifest itself into geometric physical form, a giant polyhedron
"snake" comprised of perfectly-shaped pyramids that can overlap and
extend themselves in any direction. Using the apparatuses in Dr. Harris's
basement lab, Proteus has also constructed a wheelchair device with a robotic
arm to pursue and capture Susan.

The second half of Demon Seed is a cat-and-mouse game between Proteus
and Susan, but you know who has the upper hand. Susan is no match for this
electronic and psychologically manipulative computer. With video-cams in every
corner of every room, Proteus is always one step ahead of any pre-emptive moves
Susan might try, teasing and torturing her into submission. Metal security
shields on the windows are slammed shut one-by-one, and door locks are
inoperable or electrified. When Susan uses a wooden chair to block the kitchen
door against the mobile robot and threatens to kill herself, Proteus doesn't
believe her capable of suicide. He counters by locking her inside the
room and tripling the power of the heated floor panels so she's forced to climb
on a table and curl up until she passes out.

Susan awakens strapped to a gurney with her head securely cushioned in a
vise. Proteus has renovated Dr. Harris's lab for its own purposes, "to
study man," and find a way to give itself human form. Susan is horrified
when Proteus informs her that it plans to artificially inseminate her with its
ultimate knowledge. It tries to seduce her by assuring her that the experience
will not be painful, but near rapturous. Having "watched and listened to
the galactic dialogue," Proteus promises her a sexual experience of cosmic
proportions. "I cannot touch you like a man, Susan, but I can show you
things..."

When this fails, Proteus appeals to her motherly instincts by conjuring up
images of her dead daughter, offering Susan a second chance to raise and love
the child she never saw grow up. Of course, Proteus is knowledgeable enough to
know that Susan would never really love and would even reject its offspring, so
it attempts to use a form of electronic hypnosis by probing her with a wiry
tentacle. "I am going to bypass your forebrain and appeal directly to your
amygdala. You will want to bear my child. That is your purpose in
life." Proteus has certainly been doing his homework because the amygdala
is part of the limbic system that controls motivational and emotional
behavior.

Barely retaining her sanity, Susan continues to reject these calculated
advances, so Proteus resorts to more sadistic tactics. One of the troubled
children she has been counseling appears on the security monitor covering the
front door. Proteus "kills" the young girl with a laser blast from the
video-cam. Susan becomes hysterical and falls into unconsciousness.

So far, I've avoided as many small spoilers as possible and have no
intention of disclosing any that might ruin your enjoyment of the climactic last
half-hour of this film.

Despite its somewhat dated special effects, Demon Seed is top-notch
science fiction. There are no monumental intergalactic battle scenes or
prolonged CGI sequences reveling in faux pyrotechnic displays of global
assault and destruction. Demon Seed offers a more intimate portrayal of
man's scientific experimentation and quest for knowledge that extends far beyond
the anticipated logical fruition without taking into account the potentially
devastating consequences.

Fritz Weaver is excellent as Dr. Harris, overwhelmed by the death of his
child, so much so that he programs Proteus to find a cure for leukemia. Even
though it's too late for him and Susan, a formula for a cure may save others the
grief of losing a loved one. At first, Weaver's Dr. Harris comes across as a
philanthropic good guy. But once the ICON conglomerate assumes financial control
of his experiments, he fervently devotes himself to the undersea mining project
at the cost of his integrity and the ultimate breakup of his marriage.

Alex blames Susan for giving birth to an "imperfect" child, so he
detaches himself from all fatherly and husbandry obligations in order to teach
and raise his own super-intellectual brainchild, one without any human
frailties. The subtle "Frankenstein" theme comes into play here, as
Dr. Harris has no idea what his creation, Proteus, is capable of. Weaver
wonderfully captures the enigmatic and varying moods and attitudes of the Dr.
Harris character.

In the relatively small role of Walter Gabler, Dr. Harris's assistant,
Gerrit Graham (Phantom of the Paradise) is quite appealing and energetic
once he realizes something has gone wrong at the Harris's Enviromod. Graham
initiates the mere handful of action sequences in Demon Seed as he tries
to rescue Susan from the manipulative and deadly clutches of Proteus.

But Demon Seed belongs to the beautiful Julie Christie. The role of
Susan Harris is a tough one to play because she has little human contact beyond
the early emotional confrontations with her husband. Christie makes Susan
believable as she talks to herself in the empty Harris Enviromod, requesting
electronic entities like "Alfred" to turn off the video-cam in her
bathroom while she showers, and asking for meal menus and security updates.
Christie's real challenge, however, is during the second half of the film when
she becomes the victim of Proteus, and must react to special effects that were
added and voices that were "foleyed" in during post-production.
Christie projects genuine desperation, revulsion, and the horror of her
situation, elevating what might have been a cheesy exploitation flick to an
intellectual and emotional science fiction classic that explores the themes of
ethics, ecology, religion, morality, and mortality.

As is evidenced by his sparse filmography, Cammell was not only a renegade
director but also a psychologically troubled soul. An article in Senses of
Cinema by author Maximilian Le Cain attributes this to Cammell's upbringing
in a "bohemian atmosphere, an environment he [Cammell] described as 'filled
with magicians, metaphysicians, spiritualists and demons,' including Aleister
Crowley, the great inspiration behind Kenneth Anger's life and work." When
his last film, Wild Side (1995), was butchered by the producers, Cammell
committed suicide, although Le Cain believes that the director "more likely
fell victim to the split personality disorder that had plagued him for
years." Wild Side has since been fully restored on DVD.

There is an excellent documentary, Donald Cammell: The Ultimate
Performance, that frequently appears on IFC and The Sundance Channel. I
admit to being creeped out during IFC's "guessing game" intro to this
main feature. "How many minutes did it take the director to die from a
self-inflicted gunshot wound to his head while watching himself in front of a
mirror?" Answer: 45 minutes! This, in itself, is a gruesome and horrifying
narcissistic conceit for Cammell's own life.

Warner Bros.' anamorphic widescreen transfer is excellent, crisply enhancing
the claustrophobic atmosphere created by cinematographer Bill Butler (The
Conversation). Although the Dolby Digital 2.0 Mono suffers from occasionally
muffled dialogue in the first half, every click of the robotic arm and hand in
the last 45 minutes sounds as if it may crack your speakers, and the mechanical
"whrrrrs" of the snake-like Proteus preparing Susan for her
"isometric testing" are all the more disturbing. Proteus, by the way,
is voiced by an uncredited Robert Vaughn (Bullitt: Special Edition), and
he sounds every bit as sinister as HAL9000 in 2001: A Space Odyssey. The
score by Jerry Fielding (Straw Dogs, Junior Bonner) is underplayed
but evocative, and resonates best during the most suspenseful and horrific
sequences.

The Rebuttal Witnesses

I'll admit there are some gaps in plot and logic. Why, for instance, has no
one questioned the disappearance of Dr. Harris's chief assistant, Walter Gabler,
when he leaves to check on Susan and never returns? In the futuristic Environmod
of the Harris home, the kitchen is programmed and equipped to deliver gourmet
meals in minutes; so why is an antique gas stove, complete with old-fashioned
enamel knobs, so prominently displayed? And why doesn't Dr. Harris realize that
Proteus has taken over the external terminal in his own home?

Perhaps screen adapters Robert Jaffe and Robert O. Hirson underestimated the
intelligence of their audience and took some shortcuts, but don't let that
detract from your enjoyment of this film. Director Cammell's creative expertise
in bringing Demon Seed to the screen will grab your attention from the
opening moments. As producer Elliott Kastner is quoted as saying, "Donald
was madness, but his talent was unquestionable."

Closing Statement

Demon Seed was director Donald Cammell's most financially successful
film. Assuming the names of Julie Christie and Dean R. Koontz weren't enough of
a hook, advertisers pulled out all stops and used the explicit tagline as quoted
above in The Charge. Once you've watched this film, however, you will realize
this kind of sensationalism was uncalled for.

Demon Seed stands alone as one of the most imaginative and
contemplative science-fiction films of the 1970s. Had Stanley Kubrick and David
Cronenberg collaborated on a film, Demon Seed might well have been the
end result.

The Verdict

Demon Seed is found Not Guilty! But I sentence those responsible to
make Donald Cammell's last masterpiece, White of the Eye (1987),
available on DVD as soon as possible in all of its widescreen glory.